


prompted: marked&branded

by whore



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Marking, Non-Consensual Spanking, Rope Bondage, SebaCiel - Freeform, got some funky sentences in here lads i've never heard of editing in my whole life, vexing-young-master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whore/pseuds/whore
Summary: anonymous asked: pimp!bastian tying ciel stomach down on the bed, wrapping those pretty (and oh so fragile) wrists in rough rope against the headboard- pulling those thin hips upwards, ignoring Ciels protests as he writes his name in marker all over his plush ass, sebastian threatening to tattoo his name on ciels ass if the boy forgets who he belongs to





	prompted: marked&branded

**Author's Note:**

> barely edited this. forgive any funky sentences.
> 
> tumblr: vexing-young-master

" _Haah_ -!"

Ciel's cute little face gets planted into coarse pillow fluff. Sebastian's fingers are laced around those bony little wrists, and he pins them against that bony little back. _  
_

The boy yelps. Jolts. Arches his back instinctively. An embarrassed wail gets muffled by cheap, coarse pillow fluff.

Ciel wonders what he did wrong  _this_ time.

"Oh, you're gonna fuckin'  _get_ it--" Sebastian twists those pretty wrists and slings his thighs over kid's long, kicking, squirming legs. Ciel gasps. Tastes dust in his mouth. "Fuckin' ridiculous. You're absolutely fuckin'  _ridiculous_ ," Ciel hears him rustling with something in his big, dark jacket when he pulls a hand away. Keeps the grip around Ciel's chafing wrists stone-cold and unforgiving.

_"Atta' boy. Don't you fuckin' move."  
_

The groaned sigh that heaves from Sebastian's lungs shouldn't make the kid's dick chub.  _Love it when you squirm, baby._  Thicken quick in his little navy shorts. It should scare him. Ciel only gets to hear  _it_ when Sebastian's mad. Real mad. Hears it when Sebastian draws a gun, a knife, a  _whatever_ from his coat. It sends fear, terror, white-hot terror coursing through Ciel's weak, weak veins and it sends a warbled moan tripping from his cherry-kissed little boy lips.

Sebastian chuckles, low and gravelly, and it goes straight to poor, poor Ciel's neglected little dick.

He feels his arms get twisted up til they hit the rusty wooden headboard of the rusty, rusty bed his scrawny hips are pinned to. Coarse rope gets hastily wrapped around his wrists, and it burns delicious when Sebastian ties the knot. Ciel squirms. Buckles his hips. Turns his pretty head to the side and coughs.  _N-No! What're you-what're you doin-!!_  Pretty head gets shoved back into dusty pillow fluff. Ciel chokes on a cough.

Sebastian's big hands trail up the kid's teeny tiny waist.  _You're so skinny, baby. I could break you in two if I wanted._  Ciel gulps. Fingers slide underneath his waistband. Ciel wriggles his hips desperate.

" _Thaat's_ it. Relax for me. 's just 'Bastian, sweetheart. Stop fucking kickin'," Ciel can feel the man's dark, dark hair tickling up his soft neck, and that voice stoops low, low, low,  _or i'll give you a fucking reason to kick_ , makes kid squirm some more, jut his hips, kicks, and he almost cries because god, oh god, he hears a rough, petrifying growl tear from 'Bastian's throat, rings in his ear threatening.

Ciel wails into pillow fluff when he feels that big hand smack down harsh on his clothed little bum. Over and over. Sebastian's mad. Sebastian's real mad. Ciel buckles and jitters and jumps. Sebastian keeps smacking and smacking and smacking. Ciel's little navy shorts feel like sandpaper against the soft satin of his burning skin.

" _Told_ you--" Sebastian gropes his sore little cheeks, spreads them apart through sandpaper shorts, "--to  _stop_ fuckin' kicking," Blubbered cries trip from Ciel's cherry-kissed little boy lips.

"You're  _mine_. Nobody elses. Can you get that through your thick fucking skull?" Sebastian shoves that head into dirty cushioning, ruffles his fingers through soft, rich gray-blue locks and pulls painful. Loves the feeling of Ciel's obedient little head nodding hasty and desperate. He catches a muffled  _mmyours, I'm yours, I'm-I'm yours._  Hips buckle up needy. Sebastian tugs those shorts off kid's squirming little hips.

"Gonna mark you up pretty. Brand you. You're mine," Sebastian licks his burning, stinging, peach-soft cheeks. Baby boy writhes under his tongue. Cries into dirty cushioning. Sebastian briskly pulls out an old, black, hits-you- _right_ -in-the-face-when-you-open-it marker from his pocket and gives sweetheart's ass a final smack. Ciel yelps cute. His eyes burn with pretty tears. Sebastian throbs in his trousers.

" _Aaatttta_ ' boy. You're  _peerrfect_ ," The burn of potent ink against stinging reddened skin is cooling and pricking; makes baby Ciel whine high and needy and clench his teeny tiny fists, sniffling his snotty nose. Sebastian is a snarling Doberman that bares its canines and foams at the mouth, all between this boy's shaky, shaky thighs and hoarse, croaky pleas. Threatens to bite, threatens to rip little Ciel to shreds.

A Doberman's mouth, full of canines and dangers, smiles wide and predatory at the name he etches out on smooth, cream-delicious, peach-soft skin. Black ink contrasts pretty against blushing, burning raspberry red, Sebastian thinks haughtily, and he wishes he had his camera, or something -- wishes he could capture this very moment. Keep the photo in his wallet, maybe. Sebastian licks his lips.

The work of art that lays before him, squirming and jittering sensitive to the fingers that trickle along it, weeping his name in hushed whispers and cries, is one he swears not to forget. Even as Ciel nearly breaks out the harsh restraints around his fragile, bony wrists, cursing him out in prayers and apologies, Sebastian looks at him fondly. Slaps his thighs when they try to wriggle up his worthless, boring shorts, and Sebastian leans down nice and close to murmur in that kid's blushing little ear.

"Your  _God_ \--" The man pronounces  _your_ with a bitter sarcasm “--can't do  _shit,_ " Sebastian rubs the warming ink that stains baby boy's skin "He isn't  _yours_ , sweetheart. But I can tell you one thing for sure,"

Ciel gulps. Doesn’t wanna hear it, but Sebastian cracks his face into a too-wide grin, and murmurs low.

”You?”

Sebastian pauses.

”You’re fucking _mine_.”


End file.
